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lowblow emma
Star
- Joined
- Sep 21, 2013
- Location
- London
‘Come again.’
‘Hippolyta,’ the agent repeated, ‘Hippolyta, after the Queen of the Amazons in Ancient Greece. Haven’t you heard of her?’
No, actually, Angel hadn’t, but she didn’t want to show her ignorance. Agents always imagined that their clients were uneducated. Otherwise, why would they had taken up wrestling as a career?
‘Never heard of her. Is that a photo?’
The agent pushed the glossy A4 print over her desk.
‘She was on the circuit for a while, over on the West coast, but she found the clubs more lucrative.’
‘Fuck.’ Angel pushed the print back.
‘Right. She’s big right enough. But that can be a disadvantage. She’s lost a good few fights in her time, more recently. You’re in with a good chance with your background and record.’
She was right. Angel had risen fast through the professional ranks and been a contender for the title on several occasions. But that had been a few years back and Angel was now approaching her mid-30s, which was why her agent was keen to break into the club circuit.
‘The management think a fight between the two of you will attract a premium on the tickets. This is an exclusive club,’ she pushed a brochure across her desk, ‘with a rich clientele who relish a good fight.’ She pushed another document across the desk. ‘Which is why they are offering a good fee, win or lose, to entice you. Plus a variety of bonuses for winning and, er, other specials. Interested?’
Angel was interested. She remarked that she would be more interested to know what fee and payments for specials were being offered to her opponent. At that moment, Hippolyta was saying exactly the same thing to her agent.
Two days later, the doorbell rang and Angel found a courier with a small package.
‘From the Blue Moon,’ he explained, ‘it’s your costume. You’re to let them know if you need a different size.’
It turned out to be the correct size and a surprisingly comfortable fit, although not what Angel was used to wearing. It consisted of a bra and thong, in gold jersey that clung to every fold and left nothing to the imagination. The bra provided little support and only stayed in place by clinging to her nipples. The thong was stretched over the furls of her labia so tightly that she was sure it would show her clit.
What she wondered would Hippolyta be wearing?
The answer was a blue one piece with halter neck – no tits to brag about, certainly nothing to justify a bra – and cut high on the thigh, leaving only a thin blue line between the bulging muscles of her thighs.
After a quick introduction, dwelling on Hippolyta’s success in wiping out opponents and Angel’s status as a newcomer, the mistress of ceremonies departed the ring in a flash of legs and suspenders, leaving the referee to give the briefest pep talk Angel had ever heard.
‘Put up a good show, girls, remember how much you’re being paid.’
Hippolyta took him at his word. As soon as the buzzer went for the start of the contest, she strode over to meet Angel, brushed aside her proffered hand, grabbed her under her arms, swung her round, and tossed her over the top rope.
Pausing only to deliver a ringing slap to the man who had groped her as he helped her to her feet, Angel rolled back into the ring while her opponent stood sportingly clear to await her return. That, however, was the end of the amnesty. As Angel was just rising to her feet, her knees barely clear of the canvas, Hippolyta put one huge hand on her throat and the other between her thighs as she hoist Angel into the air and paraded her round the ring. As she waited for whatever fate awaited her at the end of the parade, Angel entertained the uncharitable thought that these moves might be on the other fighter’s list of specials that were earning her bonuses as she ticked them off.
Having prepared herself for another flight over the ropes, it came as a surprise to find herself gently lowered into the corner, with her legs spread and her feet twisted around the middle rope on either side. Hippolyta strolled casually over to the far corner to begin her run up. With her weight, it was obvious to Angel that she was in for a crushing impact that would knock the wind out of her. So it was another surprise when Hippolyta skidded to a halt a few feet short of her and delivered a kick to the crotch that shot Angel into the air, loosening her hand grip on the top room and leaving her to fall, dangling with her feet still trapped in the ropes.
She struggled to release her feet as the Amazon positioned herself for the next run up. At least, that was how it appeared, because to a veteran of the pro circuit, she knew how to free her feet quickly, bring her body up just as Hippolyta closed at speed and, going too fast to slow down, ran on to Angel’s raised foot, which she thrust between the approaching thighs.
By the time that Hippolyta had hit the deck with a crash that shook the ring, Angel was free of the ropes and atop the turnbuckle from where she launched herself onto the other woman’s back. As she flew down, she saw as if in slow motion the huge woman roll onto her back and pull back her legs, kicking them up into Angel’s stomach and sending her crashing back into the corner where she slid to the floor.
The two women stared at each other from the canvas. Each now knew they had a fight on their hands. Hippolyta knew that her opponent would be aching from her fall from the ring and the collision with the corner, while Angel knew that Hippolyta’s crotch would be stinging after impaling herself on Angel’s foot.
‘Hippolyta,’ the agent repeated, ‘Hippolyta, after the Queen of the Amazons in Ancient Greece. Haven’t you heard of her?’
No, actually, Angel hadn’t, but she didn’t want to show her ignorance. Agents always imagined that their clients were uneducated. Otherwise, why would they had taken up wrestling as a career?
‘Never heard of her. Is that a photo?’
The agent pushed the glossy A4 print over her desk.
‘She was on the circuit for a while, over on the West coast, but she found the clubs more lucrative.’
‘Fuck.’ Angel pushed the print back.
‘Right. She’s big right enough. But that can be a disadvantage. She’s lost a good few fights in her time, more recently. You’re in with a good chance with your background and record.’
She was right. Angel had risen fast through the professional ranks and been a contender for the title on several occasions. But that had been a few years back and Angel was now approaching her mid-30s, which was why her agent was keen to break into the club circuit.
‘The management think a fight between the two of you will attract a premium on the tickets. This is an exclusive club,’ she pushed a brochure across her desk, ‘with a rich clientele who relish a good fight.’ She pushed another document across the desk. ‘Which is why they are offering a good fee, win or lose, to entice you. Plus a variety of bonuses for winning and, er, other specials. Interested?’
Angel was interested. She remarked that she would be more interested to know what fee and payments for specials were being offered to her opponent. At that moment, Hippolyta was saying exactly the same thing to her agent.
Two days later, the doorbell rang and Angel found a courier with a small package.
‘From the Blue Moon,’ he explained, ‘it’s your costume. You’re to let them know if you need a different size.’
It turned out to be the correct size and a surprisingly comfortable fit, although not what Angel was used to wearing. It consisted of a bra and thong, in gold jersey that clung to every fold and left nothing to the imagination. The bra provided little support and only stayed in place by clinging to her nipples. The thong was stretched over the furls of her labia so tightly that she was sure it would show her clit.
What she wondered would Hippolyta be wearing?
The answer was a blue one piece with halter neck – no tits to brag about, certainly nothing to justify a bra – and cut high on the thigh, leaving only a thin blue line between the bulging muscles of her thighs.
After a quick introduction, dwelling on Hippolyta’s success in wiping out opponents and Angel’s status as a newcomer, the mistress of ceremonies departed the ring in a flash of legs and suspenders, leaving the referee to give the briefest pep talk Angel had ever heard.
‘Put up a good show, girls, remember how much you’re being paid.’
Hippolyta took him at his word. As soon as the buzzer went for the start of the contest, she strode over to meet Angel, brushed aside her proffered hand, grabbed her under her arms, swung her round, and tossed her over the top rope.
Pausing only to deliver a ringing slap to the man who had groped her as he helped her to her feet, Angel rolled back into the ring while her opponent stood sportingly clear to await her return. That, however, was the end of the amnesty. As Angel was just rising to her feet, her knees barely clear of the canvas, Hippolyta put one huge hand on her throat and the other between her thighs as she hoist Angel into the air and paraded her round the ring. As she waited for whatever fate awaited her at the end of the parade, Angel entertained the uncharitable thought that these moves might be on the other fighter’s list of specials that were earning her bonuses as she ticked them off.
Having prepared herself for another flight over the ropes, it came as a surprise to find herself gently lowered into the corner, with her legs spread and her feet twisted around the middle rope on either side. Hippolyta strolled casually over to the far corner to begin her run up. With her weight, it was obvious to Angel that she was in for a crushing impact that would knock the wind out of her. So it was another surprise when Hippolyta skidded to a halt a few feet short of her and delivered a kick to the crotch that shot Angel into the air, loosening her hand grip on the top room and leaving her to fall, dangling with her feet still trapped in the ropes.
She struggled to release her feet as the Amazon positioned herself for the next run up. At least, that was how it appeared, because to a veteran of the pro circuit, she knew how to free her feet quickly, bring her body up just as Hippolyta closed at speed and, going too fast to slow down, ran on to Angel’s raised foot, which she thrust between the approaching thighs.
By the time that Hippolyta had hit the deck with a crash that shook the ring, Angel was free of the ropes and atop the turnbuckle from where she launched herself onto the other woman’s back. As she flew down, she saw as if in slow motion the huge woman roll onto her back and pull back her legs, kicking them up into Angel’s stomach and sending her crashing back into the corner where she slid to the floor.
The two women stared at each other from the canvas. Each now knew they had a fight on their hands. Hippolyta knew that her opponent would be aching from her fall from the ring and the collision with the corner, while Angel knew that Hippolyta’s crotch would be stinging after impaling herself on Angel’s foot.